Plaque Buildup Merging all the sports Halls of Fame could fill a huge cavity in every fan's travel plans

I have a dream. I have a dream that one day all sports halls offame, museums and restaurants will be conveniently consolidatedin a single theme park so that future Super Bowl MVPs, when askedwhere they're going next, won't have to answer "Disney World" butcan say instead, "To a place where I have a cut of the profits."This infotainment complex will be a paradise of unearthlydelights, where children of all ages will visit the Hall ofPresidents to marvel at an audioanimatronic Gary Bettman, whoappears so uncannily unlifelike they'll swear that it really isthe NHL prexy.

But the first stop will be the interactive pavilion: There you'llfind Wilt Chamberlain's bed, with an endless loop of cleansheets, like those perpetual hand-towel machines you tug on inrestaurant rest rooms. Visitors will be urged to "take a number"from the deli-style ticket dispenser on Wilt's nightstand and toperiodically consult the NOW SERVING sign, with space for fivedigits.

Guests will then be shuttled across the park in a baseball-cappedgolf cart of the sort that once conveyed overweight relieversfrom bullpen to pitcher's mound in electrified comfort. Or choosemore adventurous transport. Gone will be Disney's famousmonorail. In its place will be Casey Stengel's Train of Thought,which will derail daily, every hour on the half hour. Ride it toTomorrowland, where you'll see a haunting vision of the future:the 19 elbow operations that await Bronx Little League pitchingsensation Danny Almonte. Fans of Disney will thrill to ourversion of his spinning teacups--the spinning D-cups of Ms.Morganna's Wild Ride, in which families whirl away the afternoonin the oversized brassiere of baseball's notorious KissingBandit.

Then you'll be off to the carnival midway. Try to ring the bellat the top of the tall Breathalyzer Tower. (Simply take a deepbreath and blow!) Ride the rocket-fueled bumper cars, careful toavoid the warring vehicles of Jose Canseco and his ex-wife,Esther. Finally, play the timeless Whack-a-Mole game, in whichcontestants, armed only with a judge's gavel, will try to smackdown Baltimore Ravens linebacker Ray Lewis. (Hint: It's notpossible!)

By then you'll have worked up quite an appetite. So why not visitthe sports-themed Food Court? Sample the fried Calipari, the Kobebeef or, a personal favorite, the Mobster Bisque, containingactual chunks of the guy who blew the whistle on the Gold Club.

Wait 30 minutes after eating, and then dip into Water Park, whereyou'll swim with the dolphins. Or rather, the Miami Dolphins(ex-Dolphins, actually). Play Marco Polo with Mercury Morris!Conduct a cannonball contest with Dwight Stephenson!! Getde-Speedoed by a mischief-making Larry Csonka!!!

While still in your swimsuit, join the Minnesota Twins on theirGiant Slide: You'll plunge--from a great height, at breakneckspeed--straight into the crapper (but what a ride!). Then dry off,if you dare, on Roid Rage, the state-of-the-art roller coaster.It will take you to exhilarating heights and unspeakable depths,and exhilarating heights and unspeakable depths, over and over inthe span of a single minute.

If all of this weren't magic enough, the park closes each nightwith a ticker-tape parade down Main Street. (The ticker tape--fourmetric tons of it every day--isn't ticker tape at all but ratherthe torn-up pari-mutuel tickets of that day's unluckiest bettorat Yonkers Raceway.)

And while Mr. Met marches into the moonset with Fredbird, you'llhappily head for home--via the Gift Shop--with the perfect keepsakein your pocket: a tiny replica of the park, beneath a glass snowdome. The snow is, in fact, genuine sportswriter dandruff,complete with a certificate of authenticity. Every time you shakeit, the souvenir will remind you, the North American sports fan,of the best day you ever had.